Game Over
by Crinklybrownleaves
Summary: A silly fic that came to me when I was feeling miserable about DBM coming to an end.


**A/N: An attempt to take my mind off the terrible news that S5 will be the last series of DBM :(**

 **I occasionally ask myself, at moments of stress, 'What Would Jean Do?' The answer, in this case, is much what we are doing.**

 **Don't take this seriously, please! It's not meant that way**.

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Jean slammed the plate of sandwiches down on the table in front of him. This lunch did not look up to her usual standard. A slice of ham between two slices of bread was not what he had come to expect. Lucien viewed it sadly but knew better than to comment. He eyed her nervously as she turned back to get the teapot.

Jean looked tense, very tense. He'd guessed there was something not quite right when she had brought him a cup of tea in his surgery earlier. She had seemed distracted and barely spoke to him, but this was much worse.

He began to eat his sandwich, pondering on the mysteries of women. He loved women, of course he did, and this one in particular, but he couldn't deny that he scarcely understood them at all.

And there were biscuit crumbs on the table. That wasn't like Jean at all - she was normally so tidy, and she didn't really approve of eating between meals.

He ran through in his mind what the problem could be. Something had definitely changed between breakfast and that cup of tea. Could she have had a letter that upset her? Maybe it was something Jack had done, or perhaps Christopher had written with bad news. He was fairly sure she would have shown him a letter like that though.

Maybe the gossip about the two of them was bothering her again. Certainly Mei Lin's reappearance had made life very hard for Jean; the town's gossips had had a field day. But since Mei Lin left things had improved. Now they were engaged and that seemed to deflect some of the worst comments.

There was nothing for it, he would have to ask her.

"Has something upset you, Jean?"

She turned towards him, cheeks pink and eyes too bright. For a moment he thought she was angry with him but then she sighed and fetched that day's copy of The Courier. Searching for the right article, she refolded the pages and set it down next to him.

"There, look. They've cancelled Game of Champions! How could they?" She sat back at the table and pushed her lunch aside; too many biscuits.

He looked puzzled. "Well, just because they've cancelled this week's episode, that's not worth getting so upset about." She looked near to tears and he was at a loss as to why it mattered so much.

"No, Lucien, they've cancelled it for good. There will be no more episodes at all. It's all just...horrible."

He hesitated. Something warned him to tread carefully.

"I didn't know you were so interested in it, Jean. I'm sorry." He caught her hand as she stood next to him and squeezed it.

"Ever since we had Simon Lo to stay, I've got more and more interested in it. It was terrible what happened to Simon, of course, but the questions are fascinating and some of the contestants are amazing."

Lucien looked at her in surprise. He hadn't realised this meant so much to her. But she was an intelligent woman, and he could see she might like testing out her knowledge like this.

"So why are they cancelling it?" he asked. "I thought it was quite successful."

"That's what's so strange," she replied, warming to the subject now. "It's BTV-6's most successful programme. Everyone watches it. Why would they stop making it now?"

Her indignation was rising now, and Lucien sensed that this was no passing fad.

"Matthew's a great fan of quiz shows, you know. I wonder what he thinks about it?" Lucien asked, finishing his sandwich while Jean considered for a moment.

"Perhaps I should ask him over this evening. We can commiserate together," Jean replied. "Would that be all right, Lucien?" She opened one of the kitchen cupboards; she was sure there had been some chocolate in there last week, but it seemed to have gone. She frowned and sighed.

He nodded. "Of course. I'm always happy to see him."

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After dinner, which Jean had paid more attention to than she had to lunch, mostly for Matthew's sake, Lucien poured them all drinks and they settled in the living room.

"You've heard the bad news then, Jean?" Matthew asked. Lucien had rung him to invite him over, and had explained why.

"Yes, it's just awful. I can't imagine what Friday evenings will be like without Game of Champions. Did you often go to the studio to see it, Matthew?" She looked rather envious.

"I went regularly before that murder, but only once or twice since. I found I preferred watching it at home, with Rose, or Charlie."

Lucien and Jean exchanged glances. That rather explained where Charlie was spending his Friday evenings.

"I expect they'll show repeats of the show," Lucien added, trying to be helpful. The others stared at him in disbelief.

"What's the point in that?" Matthew asked. "If they show repeats, we'll know all the answers!"

"It would be a bit like having a mystery show, cancelling it, and then repeating all the episodes a few months later. Everyone would remember the plot. No good at all." Jean looked despondent.

"Jean, how would you feel about us organising our own quiz night? We could set the questions and invite people to come along. We could have a prize if you like." Matthew started to get animated at the thought. He warmed to his theme, muttering about categories, and teams, and making up rules.

"If the prize is one of Jean's cakes I might even come along," Lucien joined in.

Jean gave him one of her looks. "You get to eat my cakes anyway," she answered, pretending to be severe. "But it does sound a good idea, Matthew."

Lucien went over to the drinks cabinet and topped up his glass of whisky. He waved the bottle at Matthew but it was Jean who held out her glass to him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Are you trying to drown your sorrows?" he asked. Jean nodded quite seriously.

"Definitely! And actually, I'm going to try cake too." She went to fetch it from the kitchen, and Matthew gave Lucien a look of sympathy.

"I think you might be in for a rough few weeks, my friend," he chuckled. "Just till she finds a new quiz show."


End file.
